


Forgive me, Padre, for I have sinned

by AshynnaStarlight



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adult Content, Alternative Universe - Priest, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female POV, Oral Sex, Priest, Religious Puns, Vaginal Fingering, alternative universe, puns, reader POV, sexual puns, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshynnaStarlight/pseuds/AshynnaStarlight
Summary: You have been lusting for your local priest, the honorable Padre Amicitia, for a while now. Of course you shouldn't. But you cannot help yourself. And when you blurt out you need to confess your sins to him...things take an unexpected turn.





	Forgive me, Padre, for I have sinned

**Author's Note:**

> A very much belated birthday for my darling Coucou. Some private stuff happened which made me unable to finish it on time, or write much at all lately, but I hope it makes her, and all of you still smile and join me in hell. Because oh boy, this certainly should cement my place in that fiery pit. 
> 
> Happy Birthday love, hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thanks to Vathekael for going over it. Sorry for any mistakes. It is late.

 

You were going to hell. Without a doubt. The moment you died, Lucifer would come to collect your soul. You wrinkled your nose at that thought. Vanity much. You were definitely not important enough for the King of Hell himself to come and collect you. No, probably more likely that some low level demon would snatch your soul and dump you straight in the ring for those lustful sinners who could not stop thinking purely about the priest of the church in your town.

In your defence, had anyone _seen_ the priest? If the priest had been the apple in Eden, no wonder Eve sinned. Honestly, the man must either be ridiculously blessed by God or Lucifer was playing tricks on you all to tempt you into sin.

Who were you kidding? The moment he flashed those pearly whites at you, and his cognac brown eyes twinkled at you, your mind forgot the Holy Scriptures and nosedive straight into the sin filled gutter.

The fan in your hand worked over time as you walked down the street to the beautiful chapel with stained glass windows. The Holy Order of Astrals was an old, but still popular, religion in Eos. Due to their connection with the land and royalty, it still stood the test of time even though other religions had sprouted and mixed with it. The chapel in your little town was specially dedicated to the Astral Bahamut, his image displayed in the windows. Joined by the angels of the younger Saviour religion.

Your mind drifted off to what one of your friends had told you, whom was a theology student in the big capital. Something about that the Oracle Saviour for yore – wasn’t his name Ardyn? – was the same saviour that was worshiped in the religion that spoke of these winged beings. Of course, they did not say that too loudly or one would cry blasphemy. Theology students were as passionate, maybe even more so that some of the history or anthropology students you had the dubious pleasure to witness while doing your own studies.

What made you feel unnaturally passionate was the way that dark grey-blue shirt hugged his body. The slightest hint of the gold-dyed colour peeking up from the back as he was turned away, hair pulled up in a bun. _Woosh woosh_ did your fan as you sunk your teeth gently into your bottom lip, fingers curling into a fist. Your eyes roamed his body, landing on that tight butt hidden in well cut dress pants. _Shiva, cool me down please_.

His baritone voice carried through the acoustic friendly room, making butterflies tingle in your stomach. Walking around and acting like you were examining either the stunning glass flowers or other art, you tried to get a good look of Padre Amicitia’s face. Everything feminine inside of you sighed in pleasure as you caught sight of the profile craved by a master sculptor. Sinful. Absolutely sinful.

If he had not been a nice and good man as well, you wouldn’t be head’s over lust for him. But, although you could not hear the exact words, you could hear from the timbre in his voice he spoke kindly to the elderly lady before him. His hand resting gently on her shoulder as those full lips moved. Always he listened to those that visited the chapel. Or even visited those at home if they needed support and were unable to come here. Some could say that this behaviour was to be expect from a priest like him, but it still touched so many hearts.

You wondered for a moment if his looks were a reason why the congregation had grown, his joyful personality, or the passionate and inspiring way he preached and encouraged others every Ceremony. Probably a combination of all three. You swore internally, then scolded yourself for swearing in a holy place, but part of you wanted to run off.

Why had you even come here? You had chores to do at your home. Much more important than ogling the priest you had been lusting after ever since he came to take over the congregation from Padre Cavallo. Tearing away your gaze, you sat down on one of the cushioned pews close to an aquarium. For mediation someone had once told you.

You got lost in thought as you watched the colourful fish swimming cheerfully without a worry or a thought in the world. Could fish even think? Or did they just existed in a weird existential non-conscious state? Just go in endless circles, never going anywhere. Did they know they were…

“Gil for your thoughts.” You almost jumped several meters into the air as a heavy hand settled on your shoulders. Heart attempting to jump out of your throat, and your head snapped up. Padre Amicitia smiled down amused at you, a curious twinkling brightening the cognac brown of his irises. Laugh lines decorating the edge of his eyes.

Pressing your fan against your chest, you let out a sheepish laugh. “Oh, nothing of interest Padre. Merely admiring the fish.” Glancing around, you tried to look for the elderly lady that had been there before. “I do hope I am not keeping you from your work.”

He shook his head, his hair moving slightly along as a few strands had escaped his messy bun. By Titan, how could any red blooded human being stay focused with a vision of a man such as Padre Amicitia before them. Those eyes unwavering and intense as they stared down at you. It was as if he could look at your soul…or read your mind. You fought the urge to make a circle against your chest and pray for the protection of Shiva. He did not need to know the sinful thoughts you had entertained while you had rested in the darkness of your room. Your hands wandering over your body as you imagined….

Pulling your mental break, you forced yourself back into the present in case he _did_ possess the supernatural ability to read minds. You would be burned on the pile of Ifrit if anyone found out.

Full lips curved up as strong fingers squeezed down on your shoulder. “You are not. Mrs. Clemens has already left. Now tell me, Y/N, how can I help you.” Nipples stiffened at the way he spoke your name. Intimate, as if he knew everything about you. Every detail…every fantasy.

“I am here for my confession.” _Whut_? Good job, you absolute…internally you screamed at your own stupidity as you kept looking into his eyes. Ifrit…Lucifer…anyone? Could you open up a big fat hole right now and just suck you in. Please. The favour would greatly be appreciated.

But nothing happened. No. Padre Amicitia just smiled friendly at you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. With every fibre in your being you tried to keep your thoughts under control as you were internally panicking like mad. Like some mad garula.

“Do you mind if we use my office for your confession. The seat in the booth cracked after little Cardiff and Teo broke it during play time.” _NO I DO MIND. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE HIS FACE WHILE CONFESSION MY SINS._ “Do not ask me how and why they were doing that. Not even the Astrals would understand the motives of youngsters.” He laughed hearty, the sound coming from his belly and made things in your own belly melt.

The only thing you could do was nod and follow him to his office in the back of the church after he flipped the sign that he was unavailable at the moment. It was in the middle of the day of a normal work week, so chances were not that big someone would come. But you never know, you guessed.

Wringing your hands together, you felt the sense of doom filling each centimetre of your body.  What the heck were you going to tell him? Good job telling him you wanted to confess. Why hadn’t you just said you merely wished to sit there and gather your thoughts. Maybe speak to him about trivial every day matters like you have done often – an attempt to quench your unholy desire for him.

He let you enter first, your eyes roaming immediately over the office as you had never been in here before. You were not a naughty….okay you were a different kind of naughty. Rubbing your hands over the skirt of your dress, you noticed the stunning statue of Bahamut that as on the opposite side of the massive oak wooden desk. A neat desk, some documents on it but not as cluttered as you had seen desks at work. One wall was just one large shelf filled with books, and you knew they were almost all his. He had once mentioned to you that he loved any written word, not just the Scriptures and Cosmology.

“Please, Y/N,” his voice wrapping itself intimately around your name again, making your heat throb, “take a seat. Would you like some refreshments?” Even though your mouth felt drier than a desert, you shook your head. Cursing yourself a second after as water would have given you an excuse to delay confessing your sins. It seems you were racking them up one after the other.

Anxiety pulsed through your veins as you sat down, smoothening your skirts as you tried to figure what to say. How to say it. The statue of Bahamuth looking down at you. It must be your imagination, but it felt like he judged you. And judged you _hard_. Bahamuth’s eyes weren’t the only one on you. Padre Amicitia stared intently at you as well as he sat down across of you, not on the other side of the desk, but on your side.

He leaned forward as he settled his hand gently on your knee, those cognac eyes trying to meet yours. His lips curved up as his eyes softened. “Easy, my dear Y/N. Whatever is on your mind, you will not be judged for it.”

“Even if it the sin I committed is the one of lusting after you, a holy man?” The silence that fell vibrated with a mixture of shock and horror. You had not wanted to say that. You had wanted to confess something minor, like coveting that pretty dress your friend had bought. Something, anything, but _this_.

You wanted to bolt, but the tightening of his hand on your knee stopped you. Opening your mouth, you started to apologise, but he silenced you with pressing his finger against your lips. Electricity coursed through your skin as you slowly rose your eyes. His had darkened a few shades. The electricity pulsed towards the centre of your body, making your heat throb with desire and want.

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip as the tension thickened. Feeling like a prey being watched by an almighty behemoth. “Padre, please forget...”

“Sssh,” he rumbled as he kept staring at you. His thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You marvelled at the texture of the skin on his hand. Rough. It told you that he worked with his hands. You had expected soft hands of the clergy, but he sure seemed to be different from what you expected with the minute. 

His hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb still on your bottom lip. Slowly, he pushed down on your lip. An almost unholy light lit in his eyes as it felt as if he bared you with his eyes. Your nipples stiffened and pushed insistently against the inside of your bra. Your clothes a constrain around your body.

You swallowed audibly, wishing to look away. But the commanding look kept you in place. “Have you _sinned_ , my dearest?” His usually kind voice had morphed, had become deeper, heavier. Like the rumbling of rocks down a hill. It sure made a certain part of you react like a waterfall.

“Yes, I have...”

“That is not how you say that.” Your eyes widened as the clear sexual heat that dripped into his voice and made those dazzling eyes stand out. His own luscious lips curved up, lines wrinkling on the edge of his eyes. His hand squeezed your knee as the other one moved from your cheek to cup the side of your neck. His thumb brushing over your throat, making you swallow nervously.

“Forgive me, Padre, for I have sinned.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes never wavering from yours. Breathes mixed. His steady while yours had gone wild. “Seems I will need to punish you, my sweet sinner. And bless you with my holy rod.”

It should make you run for the hills. Horrible pun. And it was wrong, so damn wrong. But it was like he had cast a spell on you, making you frozen in place and almost quivering in anticipation. When he leaned into for a kiss, your hands shot up and pushed against his chest. His marvellous, hard, firm chest, hidden under those clergy cloth.

“No! We cannot...you’re a man of the cloth. I cannot make you sin.” He blinked for a second, before a deep rumbling laugh made his chest vibrate. His nail lightly scraping your skin, the sensations shooting directly to your groin. Never before had you been as sensitive to a man’s touch, but he had apparently a direct connection to your brain to make you respond like a wanton wench.

“Don’t worry about that, sugar plum. Celibacy is now a vow someone in this religion takes. If I was a clergy of the Holy Scripture, yes, we would have an issue...however...” He wiggled his eyebrows, making you relax and your fingers holding onto his shirt. Padre Amicitia took that as a sign to swoop in and catch your lips passionately with his.

Toes curled in your shoes as you arched yourself into his touch and kiss, almost able to feel your heartbeat pound in your ears...and much lower. His hand moved from your knee to your back, pushing you closer and closer till you straddled his lap, the chair just big enough to accommodate you both. Your mind shut down as he kissed you, tempting you deeper into sin.

His hand grabbed your behind firmly as he controlled the kiss, with a brush of his tongue, a push of his thumb. Arousing you on the most primal level. “Such a naughty girl. So sinful. It is a good thing you came to me,” he purred against your lips as his hand slipped down your skirts from behind. Those fingers acting sinfully themselves as he brushed over your cloth covered heat, able to feel the dampness and the level of arousal he had already awakened.

He kept kissing you, tasting you like you were ambrosia gifted to him by the gods as he kept stroking you. Each stroke made you shiver, your skin just a tad hotter. You could get addicted to his kisses, as you had feared. “Confess your sins to me, my sinner. Tell me what you imagined while you thought about me in the darkness and secrecy of your room. What you thought about while stroking yourself.” When he said _stroking_ , he pushed his fingers firmly against you. You pulled your head back to moan loudly, pressing yourself down onto his fingers. “Confess.”

“I have imagined going down on you while you sit dressed in a pew. Swirl my tongue around your tip while looking up at you the whole time. Worship you while I cradle your balls in my hand. _Fuck_.” His hand had shifted, going under your skirts now from the front. The tips pushing insistently against your clit, but depriving you from so much still. No rubbing or circling. No bare skin against bare skin. No penetration.

You stared desperately at him, begging for anything. Salvation maybe. One side of his mouth tipped up, thunderstorms in his eyes. Without a word, he gently pushed you off his lap and grabbed a pillow from a stack. Placing the pillow before his feet, you got the hint and sunk down on your knees on it.

“Seeing that sitting in a pew is not an option at the moment, we have to improvise.” His words barely registered in your mind as you focused on his long fingers working on his pants. You swallowed as he undid his button. Fingers twitched when he lowered his zipper excruciating slowly.

The bastardly Padre did not wear any underwear under the slacks. His more than generous cock falling out from between the flaps of his pants, already hard, erected, and the tip deliciously flushed. A bead of precum slipping from the slit, more of the substance having made his head shiny. You panted eagerly as your fingers fisted your skirts, your eyes unable to move away from the erotic sight before you.

His hand cupped your cheek again, the gentleness a stark contrast to his sinful words, “Kiss your Padre’s holy rod, you sinful love.” The height difference had put you on a perfect level with his cock. Leaning in, you stuck out your tongue and licked his tip in the way you told him you had imagined. Your hands settling on his thighs, feeling the muscles bunch and stiffen as you kept licking and kissing. The taste of him on your tongue drove you crazy, making you more eager and wanton.

“That’s in, my sinful darling. Lick my rod. Serve your Padre.” Lifting one hand, you curled your fingers around his shaft. His skin oddly smooth, but his cock firm. Satin over steel. His thumb pushed down on your jaw, opening your mouth as you stroked him firmly. Taking the silent hint, you leaned forward and sucked the tip into your mouth. His loud moans more saintly than a choir of angels. Your body heated up, skin feeling so tight as you bobbed your head back and forth.

All you could hear were his moans as he guided you, his hand still cupping your face as he rocked his hips slowly. You moved your tongue as well as you could over his cock, drawing patterns or laying flat so it could guide the vibrations of your own moans. He spoke to you, praising you. His words made you even more aroused, more needier for him.

Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled his cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting you. “So beautiful,” he rumbled, his voice so deep it reminded you of a thunderstorm. He removed your hand and fisted his on cock, pumping it hard a few times to get some precum on the tip. Then he used his thumb to angle your face up a bit higher, rubbing the head against your lips slowly and firmly. “Maybe there can be some redemption for you. Bend over on my desk.”

Scrambling onto your feet, you did as he asked of you. You cleared his desk and laid down on your stomach. Cheeks burned as you looked straight at the statue of Bahamuth. Fingers curling around the edge, you listened as he moved behind you. He lifted your skirts and hummed pleased as he admired your behind. His hand moving over one cheek, thumb brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“I will make you see paradise and cleanse you from sin.” He pressed kisses against your shoulder as he finally penetrated you with his fingers, after he pushed aside gusset of your panties.

“ _Padre_!” You sobbed in pleasure as your passage clasped down on his thick rough fingers. The abrasion on his fingers made tingles go up your spine as it felt so good against your sensitive walls. Completely different to what you were used to when you used your own fingers or a toy. His thumb pressed down on your clit before making slow circles around the bundle of nerves.

Pushing yourself back against his hand, you stood on the balls of your feet. Your eyes not seeing anything as your fingers tightened around the wood of the edge of the desk. His fingers thrusted in and out of you while you rocked back and forth. Praying no one could hear you mewl or gasp as he searched for a spot inside of you. When he found it, pressing firmly against it, you melted like butter.

“So responsive. Shiva did well when she created you. Filled you with Ifrit’s fire.” Your heart skipped a beat at the naked hunger in his voice. His other hand grabbing your ass, squeezing and groping while he fucked you with his fingers. The tension made the room seem small. A layer of perspiration on your skin as the pressure increased in the pit of your stomach. His fingers played you skillfully, blunt nails scraping against your inner walls. His thumb flicking against your clit.

“No! Please...!” you cried out when he pulled his fingers out of you. Looking over your shoulder, you watched him lick his fingers clean. His eyes rolling back in his head as your juices glistered on his fingers in the warm light of the room. The view made a wave of fresh juices rush out of you, coating your nether lips.

His hand petted your behind as he sucked on his fingers, before he moved the hand from his mouth to his cock. Tugging on his engorged member, spreading the precum over his member again. “Ssssh, ssssh, my little sinner. I am not going anywhere. Look what I got just for you. I will cleanse you.” He winked before coming closer. “Now, look ahead again. Gaze upon Bahamuth and pray for forgiveness.”

You did as you had been ordered, looking ahead again. A low key whine fell from your lips as he rubbed his tip between your folds before lining up, pushing in slowly. Your body tried to get away as the pressure was intense, but his hands had a firm hold onto your hips. Not allowing you to go anywhere as he pushed in deeper and deeper, the fat head breaching your entrance and parting your walls. The pressure did not ease after his head popped into you, no, the burning sensation only became more as his girth made your walls struggle to accommodate you. You felt like you were burning in the fires of hell, and you did not want to be freed from it.

His hands moved from your hips to move under your chest and grabbing your shoulders. His chest pressed firmly against your back as his lips kissed your skin, as if he tried to mark you as his facial hair tickled your skin. He bottomed out inside of you, making you both moan. You tried to wiggle as you needed to do _something_ , but his body trapped you. Keeping you in place. Forcing you to get used to his possession as he whispered sin in your ear.

Fingers tweaked your nipples through the fabric, a husky moan vibrating in your ear each time your inner muscles twitched in reaction. If he kept this up, he would kill you. Burn you up in this sinful fire.

As if he could read your mind, he pulled back and settled his hands on your hips again. Your body barely having become accustomed to feeling him so deep inside of you. His hips pressed against your behind, the fabric of his pants brushing your bare skin. A stark reminder that you two were practically still dressed while engaging in such a sinful dance.

The thoughts left your mind when he pulled out and _rammed_ back into you, a shrill sound coming from you as you grabbed the desk harder or you would slide off it on the other side. He did not give you a moment of respite as he pounded into you hard and fast. The force causing his balls to slap against your clit, your moans mixing with his low rough grunts.

Your walls tightened as the pressure in your stomach became almost unbearable. Begging him for salvation. “Padre, please, oh Astrals please. Please…!”

“Say my name.”

“Padre Amicitia, please, I am so close.”

“I said, _say my name_.”

“Fuck, fuck, Gladio. Shit fuck, please.”

“Good girl,” he grunted as he moved one hand and rubbed your clit rapidly. A chain reaction set off inside of you. You saw spots as you stared at the statue before you, screaming in pleasure. Your whole body stiffened before vibrating with the force of your orgasm. The vibrations set him off as well, the grip almost bruising as he shouted out your name. Thick ropes of cum painting your passage, blessing you with his holy seed.

After what felt a century, you collapsed onto the desk. Out of breath as your hair was stuck against your sweaty forehead. Your skin finally cooling as you could feel him twitch weakly inside of you, stimulated by the last few aftershocks. He lifted one of your hands and kissed your knuckles softly. A weak whimper came from you when he pulled out, making him coo softly at you. “Let me clean you up, dearest.”  

“Don’t wanna move,” you muttered sleepy, making him laugh and press a kiss against the slope of your behind. You jumped slightly when you felt something damp against your sensitive parts, a moist towel. After him cleaning you up, he gathered you in his arms and sat down on the couch. You all tucked safely in his arms and your head under his chin.

“Dinner tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t huh me, Y/N. You thought I was just going to sent you away like that, after…this?”

“My apologies for being unable to respond appropriately, _Padre_. Some priest just blessed the heck out of me.” You smiled amused as he laughed, pressing a kiss on top of your head while those arms tightened around you. “But yes, dinner sounds good.”

“That makes me happy. I have plans for you.”

If that meant you were going to be blessed often…you were not going to protest at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are appreciated. Will post an aesthetic/moodboard on ashynnastarlight IG account soon.


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